Shortcuts

– I can bring the love of anyone’s life in three days!
– Can you bring me mine?
– Yours I can bring in one hour. All I have to do is shower and take the bus to your place.

***

I walked from far away places, in the darkness. I walked home only to discover I no longer had a home. The place was empty. You had left. I walked back, always hiding in the shadows of really tall buildings.

I climbed them. From the top, I spit my feelings. You didn’t hear.

***

– Do you know how much I longed to be wrapped in your arms tonight?
– Tell me how much, my love.
– A whole fucking lot, my life.

***

I don’t need a picture to remind me of your face, of every turn and wrinkle, the corners of your smiles. My hands remember how your body felt.

Unspoken language.

***

In the end, it felt like we were only strangers that knew each other very well. I couldn’t recognize you, nor could you recognize me.

We were each other’s opposites. Negatives. Like shadows.

***

– You don’t need to do it if you don’t want it. You know that, right?
– I do.
– So…
– I’m doing it because I want to. I like to do all those boring things with you.
(That’s love.)

***

Yes, that was love, my dear. The whole nine yards. True, deep, measured in little teaspoons and shown in the smallest of details. The greatest of all loves. The only one of my life.

Now tell me… after all said and done:
– Was it worth it?

***

And those marks cannot be called scars. They were once scar tissue, but I picked on them so much, scratched them open over and over and over again so they could keep bleeding.

The hole makes it real. Painful, but real.

***

– I wish you could be here, by my side all the time.
– But I am, my love, always.
– (sighs)
– In the yearn I am. In the want.
– I guess I’ll just have to sob myself to sleep once again.

***

It is not that I hate you. I really don’t.

Only, if I could, I’d deny you a glass of water.

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